Misfit (Death Dwellers MC #6) (67 page)

“No, Christopher. It could’ve just as easily been me left in jail for seven fucking days.”

“Christopher.” Megan’s voice puffed out behind their little group.

Turning her way, Christopher saw her standing there, red-faced, out-of-breath, and in her bare feet, as if a dire situation had chased…He glared in Brooks’ direction. Motherfucker had texted Megan to save his ass. He must’ve texted his fucking ass off.

Megan stumbled forward, pausing in front of Brooks, using her body as a shield.

“Christopher, don’t kill anybody. Please, just come home.”

“I ain’t touched him, Megan,” Christopher said. “But the motherfuckers fucked over the club. Ain’t fuck-all you tellin’ me changin’ my mind. Stay outta club business.”

“I will. I swear,” she promised.

“You didn’t even call Kyler, did you, Brooks?” Johnnie inquired.

“He texted me,” Megan answered.

“For doin’ that shit, I’m beatin’ the fuck outta him, Megan. Case fuckin’ closed. Now go. Ain’t gonna kill Brooks, but Kyler fuckin’ dead. Hear me?”

She didn’t move, her look begging him to change his mind. When she saw he wouldn’t, she nodded. “Okay.”

“Cash, get rid of Charlotte fuckin’ house. It belong to Brooks too, but he deserve it for listenin’ to her. Lettin’ her use
my
fuckin’ money to renovate and then fuckin’ over me.”

Cash’s eyes lit up in anticipation. “You want it to go boom, boom, pow?”

“I ain’t givin’ a fuck. I just want it fuckin’ gone. Gotta think about what the fuck to do to the law office, since that’s in a goddamn buildin’ with innocent civilians. But that motherfucker goin’ too.”

Megan shifted her weight but didn’t say anything.

“Johnnie, find Kyler while I clean up. Me, you and Brooks gotta meetin’ with that motherfucker in the meatshack, just as soon as I bring my girl back home.”

Christopher left Megan asleep and thoroughly fucked. He hoped like fucking hell she’d remembered to take her birth control pills while he was locked the fuck away. If she hadn’t, he could see another little motherfucker being delivered into the world in nine fucking months as much and as hard as he’d come.

He snickered. It only took a drop to make a baby, so…

“Prez, what you grinning about?” Mort asked, leaning against the table, already in uniform with plastic gloves, plastic apron, and rubber boots. Brooks sat tied and handcuffed on a chair in the corner.

“Thinkin’ about my girl make me smile,” Christopher answered, the truth. In his darkest hour, all he needed to do was remember Megan and his world lit up. “Dontcha feel the same way about Bailey?”

Mort nodded, sucking on the cigarette he’d picked up from the edge of the table. “Bailey my everything, Prez. You know she is.”

“Any more from Roxy?

“She mad at my ass for telling Bailey, so she dropped the fuck out of sight. But I couldn’t keep that from her. I prefer Roxanne mad at me, then my wife.”

“Wanderin’ ‘round pussy no man’s land ain’t fun,” Christopher agreed as Johnnie marched a motherfucker in pajamas into the meatshack, Glock pointed at the back of his head.

Blood dripped from his nose and cut lips, and his eyes were swollen. Brooks made a sound of distress around the gag in his mouth.

Mort straightened and smirked at Kyler. “Ain’t so sadity now, huh, motherfucker? Prez, Meggie girl tell you how the fuck he talk to her?”

Kyler took in the scene, his gaze going from Mort to Christopher and finally to Brooks. Fear washed away the pain and he turned, attempting to rush past Johnnie.

Johnnie grabbed him by the back of his top.

Kyler stumbled. “You said you wouldn’t kill me if I cooperated.”

Cocking his piece, Johnnie gave a cemetery smile. “I’m not killing you. Now, move. Lay the fuck on that table like a good motherfucker, so Mort can do a few experiments on you.”

“Brooks!” Kyler screamed, as if that motherfucker had the power to fix this. “Help me!”

“Yeah, Brooks, help this motherfucker.” Christopher went to Brooks and removed the gag, punching his jaw. “Help him fuckin explain what the fuck Mort meant.”

Since Kyler hadn’t moved, Johnnie and Mort hustled him to the table, with Johnnie throwing death glares to Christopher. Left up to him, he would shoot the motherfucker and end his dry spell.

“HELP!” Kyler screamed. “Someone HELP!!”

Christopher lit a cigarette and released the smoke after taking a draw, the motherfucker’s yells working on his ass. “Shut the fuck up,” he ordered, stuffing his smoke in the corner of his mouth. He grabbed a handful of Brooks’ hair and yanked his head back, exposing his throat. “One more fuckin’ sound and I’m slittin’ his throat.”

His body trembled, but Kyler shut up, while Brooks sniffled.

“Now, motherfuckers, explain to my fuckin’ ass why the fuck you takin’ my fuckin’ money and left my ass in jail. Tell my ass why the fuck I was set the fuck up to die in a goddamn shower if I ain’t killed fuckhead. Explain to me what the fuck you said to my woman.” With each word, he yanked on Brooks’ hair. “Know what, Kyler? Your loyalty to your bitch pops impressed me. To save his fuckin’ life, you shut the fuck up. I fuckin’ like that. I fuckin’ admire a man who defend his own. Know why? I defend my own, too. My club. My club money.
My
money. But e-fuckin-specially my Megan. You committed crimes against all the fuckin’ above.”

He released Brooks. The motherfucker didn’t bother to hide his tears. He’d fucked over Christopher, too, and he fucking knew it.

Christopher slammed his fist against his jaw again, then walked to where Kyler lay, strapped to the table. He circled him, pausing at the counter to get a knife and ice pick from the counter.

“You set me up, Kyler?” he asked. “Yeah, motherfuckers take a dislike to other motherfuckers. Some guards throw their fuckin’ weight a-fuckin-round, but this felt like a fuckin’
hit
to me.”

Instead of answering, Kyler screwed up his face and cried.

“You did it on Brooks’ orders?”

The motherfucker didn’t answer, just kept crying.

Christopher jammed the icepick into Kyler’s side, not concerned by his screams.

“You ever met Christopher Caldwell?” he asked, deciding to use Megan’s assessment of him. Over the months, he realized she was right. “He a simple motherfucker. Love his woman, his children, and his club. Give motherfuckers a lotta fuckin’ chances.
That’s
the motherfucker that needed you to represent him. He only wanted to be in bed with his wife. A day or two away woulda been fucked up, but
seven
days?
Christopher
might’ve for-fuckin-given you. Slapped your fuckin’ head and said ain’t puttin’ up with that a-fuckin-gain.” He went to where Kyler’s hands were shackled above his head. “
Outlaw
ain’t so fuckin’ nice.” He studied Kyler’s wedding band, then slid it from his finger and waved it in front of him. “What the fuck this mean to you?”

Kyler responded with a snotty sob as the ring to clattered to the table.

“Greedy motherfucker took my fuckin’ money.” Unshackling one hand and raising it up, Christopher hacked off four fingers, ignoring the screams and pleas.

Blood, fear, and sweat scented the air, annoying Christopher. If he allowed Brooks to live, he wanted to impress upon that motherfucker what would happen if he fucked over him again. This was the second time the motherfucker let a crazy bitch lead him down the wrong path. Otherwise, he would’ve shot Kyler and got it the fuck over with. Torture was Johnnie’s thing.

“Christopher,” Johnnie called, “let me do the other hand.”

Seeing Johnnie give in to his obsession with the smell of blood would take for-fucking-ever. Once the motherfucker started, he’d never want to stop. Most of the time, blood excited him. The exception being if he had to deal with psycho cunt.

Growling at the thought, Christopher sliced the top of Kyler’s thigh, then held up the knife to Johnnie.

As Johnnie hacked off the thumb Christopher had left and his other five fingers, Christopher went to Brooks and removed his gag. “Whatcha gotta say now, Brooks?”

“I’m sorry!” he cried, slobbering all over the place. “Please, I swear. I’m so sorry.”

“You shoulda been thinkin’ about that before you fucked over me,” Christopher snarled, the sound of the attorney’s voice pissing him the fuck and driving him to deliver a few punches.

“Stop, before you knock him the fuck out,” Johnnie admonished, rubbing his brow with the back of his hand. His eyes glinting, blood dripped from his fingers and spattered his jaw. “How the fuck will he learn…or will you shoot him in the head?”

Brooks sobbed as Kyler’s cries trickled to moans. Whatever answers he’d wanted would have to be dragged the fuck out of him. This was no longer a life or death situation. As long as he didn’t end up the fuck back in jail.

Getting his nine and exchanging a regular bullet for a hollow, Christopher went to the table. “Look at me, motherfucker.”

Shivering from shock, Kyler raised a cloudy gaze to him.

“I ain’t gotta hear what the fuck you said to Megan. Ain’t fuckin’ important. You fuckin’ bad e-fuckin-nuff to fuck over me. You bad e-fuckin-nuff to take the punishment.”

Christopher held Kyler’s gaze, lifted his nine, and fired, sending blood, skin, brain, and bone in all directions.

“Get rid of this motherfucker, Mort,” he ordered, not concerned by the screams of Brooks.

Mort nodded to his power saws on the counter. “I’ll finish up as soon as you and John Boy leave, Prez.” He preferred solitude to do his work.

“Get Brooks the fuck outta here, Johnnie.”

So ordered, Christopher headed to the club to shower. Megan knew he intended to kill, but he wouldn’t bring death to their house.

It took Cash several hours to amass the materials he needed to complete his tasks. The entire time, he wrestled with regret at not being in on the fun in the meatshack. Finally, the time arrived for him to head to Portland. On the drive to the Reddings, he appreciated the breezy night, filled with stars.

Although the roar of his bike wasn’t as loud as Outlaw’s, it didn’t mean he had stealth on his side. Seeing an upstairs light flicker on as he halted in the driveway of the Redding mansion came as no surprise. As he grabbed his kit from his saddlebag, the door swung open.

“Where’s my husband?”

Cash had met Charlotte Redding, on several occasions. In theory, he’d known her most of his life. Or women like her. For instance, his stepmother. Cassandra McCall had been a raving lunatic, driven insane by his father and her mother. Fuck, his step-grandmother. Helen Sanderson was a wicked old bitch, who he’d come to an uneasy truce with, for Georgie’s sake.

“Answer me, Mr. McCall,” Charlotte demanded, attempting to block his entrance.

“Let me inside and I’ll answer your questions. Ma’am,” he added, just to piss her off.

Tightening the belt of her silk robe, she glared at him. “I’ll call 911 and have them dispatch a unit immediately.”

“Then, call the funeral home, Charlotte. That’s where your husband will be.”

She lifted her chin. “What do you want?”

No bullshit, but he doubted that request would be fulfilled. “No more questions. Let me in. I’ll tell you what I think you need to know, then I want you to leave.”

“You must be out of your mind. I’m not leaving my house, especially on
your
orders.”

Cash brushed passed her, ignoring her outraged yell. He surveyed the high ceilings, wooden ladders, and drop cloths. Paint thinner and wood varnish would aid in the explosion.

The sound of a dial tone broke through his contemplation. “Calling Brooks?”

“No! The cops.”

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Get fucking dressed and put as much distance from this place as possible.”

Before Charlotte responded, the door opened and Brooks stumbled in. One of his jaws was swollen and discolored. He was ashen, as if he’d already seen a demon, and survived to tell the tale. His dazed gaze fell on Cash and fear crept into his eyes.

“Brooks!” Charlotte cried with panic, rushing forward, still gripping her phone. “What happened to you?”

“Ch-ch-charlotte,” he got out, from the side of his mouth, as if he couldn’t bear to speak in any other manner. “W-w-we h-h-have to l-l-le—”

“Leave,” Cash finished in a hard voice.

“I’m not talking to you!” Charlotte spat. “Now that Brooks is home, he’ll take care of you.”

Instead of agreeing with his wife, Brooks’ eyes widened in horror and he shook his head. Fed up with Charlotte’s attitude, Cash drew out his gun and aimed it at Brooks’ head.

Charlotte screamed and Brooks ducked, wrapping his hands around his head.

“Now that I have your attention, kiddies, you have ten minutes to get the fuck out. Otherwise, I’m tying you two together and attaching the explosives to your rope. Allow your blood and guts to sizzle in the fire.”

Her mouth opening and tears rushing to her eyes, Charlotte paled. She sobbed against Brooks.

“C-Cash, pl-please,” Brooks pushed out.

“Get your wife and leave while you still can,” Cash ordered without sympathy. Charlotte had been the impetus behind Kendall’s behavior and Outlaw’s extended jail time. Besides, he needed to vindicate Fee’s blackmail and Daphne’s death. “I’m losing patience.”

“Brooks.” Charlotte grabbed him and clutched him. “What’s going on? What happened to you? Why is he here?”

“Have more sympathy for your banged up husband,” Cash advised, returning to his study of the walls, flooring, and ceilings but keeping his weapon on Brooks.

Outlaw didn’t give a fuck how Cash brought the house down. Instead of going the easy route, Cash decided to amend his plan.

He cocked the hammer. “You like living, Brooks?”

“Pl-please,” Brooks begged on a sob.

“Do you, Charlotte?” Cash asked. “I can blow you the fuck away and not lose sleep over it.”

Cash moved his weapon from one motherfucker to the other and back again, pretending to consider who to shoot first before aiming it at Charlotte and firing over her head.

She screamed, and Brooks pulled her behind him, shaking and sobbing. “K-kill m-me. D-don’t h-hurt…”

He wasn’t sure if Brooks was stuttering from pain, fear, or a combination of both, and he didn’t give a fuck. Cash fired again. “Shut the fuck up,” he ordered, the report of the gun dazing Charlotte.

“She’s g-gotten the p-point,” Brooks yelled, sobbing wildly, right along with his wife. “D-don’t h-hurt h-her.”

“Why not? She’s the reason for everything. Your betrayal that led to Outlaw’s distress and Kendall’s deterioration.”

“Kendall is not deteriorating,” Charlotte snarled, recovering too quickly. “She’s thriving! She will rise above all of you and make you wish you’d never met her.”

“QUIET, CHARLOTTE!” Terror gave Brooks’ voice new determination and turned his complexion a deathly shade of gray.

“No! I’m sick of their bullying. They shot you! They’ve done something else to you. I wish I would’ve ordered Kyler to have Outlaw killed.”

“Honey, no! Please,” Brooks said tearfully. “You don’t mean what you’re saying.” He gave Cash a pleading look, understanding her words were a death sentence. “Don’t hurt her. Please. I beg you.”

“I dare him to! Kendall will avenge me. Kendall will kill Megan Caldwell!”

“No! Kendall has never threatened to kill Meggie, Charlotte,” Brooks screamed. “Never! Shut up. Now! I mean it.”

“No! Outlaw’s an ignorant brute just like Kendall said.” She hugged Brooks. “Look at your handsome face, dear. He did this to you!”

Instead of addressing his wife, Brooks looked at Cash. “Please, ignore her. She’s distressed. Don’t hurt her.”

“What room has the most recent electrical work?” Cash asked, not responding to Brooks.

Shoulders sagging, Brooks nodded toward the interior of the house. “The dining room.”

Cash nodded. Faulty wiring started electrical fires on a regular basis. Dangerous chemicals were everywhere, thanks to the remodeling, so he had more than enough tools he’d need to reduce this house to ashes. First, he’d continue scaring the fuck out of Charlotte, arrogant bitch that she was.

He stalked toward Brooks and Charlotte, hiding his laughter when they cowered back.

“I can always cut your hair off, Charlotte. Maybe, scar your face. Every time your distasteful desire to harm Outlaw came up, you’d see the error of your ways.” He shrugged. “Or I could just put you to death and be done with it. After all, your implication of arranging Outlaw’s murder is the same as treason. We all know treason is an offense punishable by death.” He smiled at her. “Do you think Kyler is suffering right now? Or has Outlaw already killed him?”

It took a moment for Cash’s words to sink in. Getting the meaning, Charlotte glanced at Cash then looked at the grief on Brooks’ face and reached out to him, before swaying.

Brooks caught her as she sank to the ground in a dead faint.

“Get her out of here, Brooks,” Cash commanded. “Take her far away and don’t let her return until you impress up on her, the detriment of fucking over the club. Am I clear?”

“Yes,” Brooks said in a broken voice.

“You have ten minutes to get a few things.” He must’ve been going soft in his old age, but fuck it. “Take a few days off to think about your bad judgment. When you come back, report to the clubhouse. We’ll direct you to your new office then.”

Bowing his head, Brooks buried his face against his wife’s cheek and cried. “My office, too?”

Cash gave him a cold look, refusing to confirm Brooks’ question. As soon as he finished at the mansion, Cash was heading to the law firm. He wanted to get to the building before anyone else arrived. On his way there, he’d contact Stretch and give him the go-ahead to hack into the security system, so Cash could do the job, without incident.

“Go, Brooks,” Cash ordered. “Before I decide to use you and Charlotte as tinder.”

“Wake up!”

A hard shake accompanied the sound of Kendall’s voice. Fee groaned and opened her eyes.

“Wake up!” Kendall cried again.

“What’s wrong?” Fee croaked out. Though much better, in the morning time, her voice was horrible. The clock on the wall read ten after eight. Gasping, she sat up, noting Kendall’s puffy eyes and reddened nose. “What’s wrong, Kendall? Why are you here so early in the morning? Has something happened…?”

Panicked, Fee swung her legs on the side of the bed, wincing at the pain of her still healing injuries.

All types of scenarios ran through her head, none of them good.

“I hate your brother and Meggie,” Kendall snarled around her tears. “Christopher killed Kyler and made Johnnie help him because of Meggie! Your brother burned Charlotte’s house down and assaulted Brooks. I hate him!”

Fee repositioned herself on the bed and stared at Kendall. “What are you talking about? Christopher’s in jail.”

“He isn’t! He was released early this morning. He…Oh my God!” Collapsing into a chair, Kendall placed a hand on her belly.